


Surprise

by Kris



Category: Blood Ties
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-17
Updated: 2008-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris/pseuds/Kris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Blood Ties, Mike/Henry, Coreen, Magic, Mpreg</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Ash/Jack Vale

“And you’re absolutely positive, Coreen, that this is just going to make them nicer to each other?” Vicki demands, her brown eyes concerned as she stares at her assistant bent over the spell book she’d borrowed from one of her friends.

“Absolutely, it’s just going to make them work through their animosity. It’s been translated by five different people and I know how to do it, it’ll be fine.” Vicki worries at her lower lip with her teeth.

“I don’t know. No, you know what, this is a bad idea. We shouldn’t do this,” she says finally. Coreen huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Vicki, something needs to be done, Henry pissed Mike off enough he almost threw coffee at him, how reasonable is that?” she demands. 

“Yeah, but there’s not liking each other and being locked in a closet until they get along and then there’s using magic to force them to like each other.” They hear the raised voices before the door to the office is flung open and Henry stomps in, hair in disarray, coat falling off one shoulder. Mike follows, shirt wrinkled and missing a button, bruising starting to appear around his left eye.

“You were not just fighting in the elevator,” Vicki says firmly. Mike smirks at Henry in a way that says he probably didn’t start the fight for once. Henry points at Mike viciously.

“He started it,” the vampire snaps.

“Oh by what, standing there?” Mike demands sarcastically, throwing his trench coat onto Coreen's desk. Henry lets out a growl and grabs Mike by the front of the suit jacket that looks like it’s suffered enough abuse already. Vicki makes an executive decision and shoves Henry hard on the back. He’s so distracted in trying to choke the life out of Mike that he doesn’t register her presence and stumbles into Mike who trips over the threshold and lands on his back with a pained groan as his body connects with the white tile floor. His breath gusts out of him as Henry lands on top of him with a startled squawk. The door slams shut with a loud click as the broken lock engages. The last time Mike had gone in there it had taken Henry an hour to pry the door open after he stopped laughing because Vicki hadn't wanted it damaged.

“Vicki!” Henry calls, pounding on the door.

“Nuh uhn,” she says loudly and the pounding stops. “Neither of you are coming out until you can get along, I’m tired of you being at each other’s throats all the freaking time. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Yeah, well, some of us can’t control our baser instincts now can they?” Sarcasm drips from every word out of Mike’s mouth and Henry doesn’t miss a single drop of it.

“That supposed to be crack about being a vampire, Celluci? You want to get up and personal with me at your throat?” he demands.

“Been there, done that, wasn’t that great,” Mike says. The scuffling starts up again, both of them cursing under their breath as they lay into each other. Vicki looks over at Coreen and Coreen starts chanting.

***

In the bathroom Mike grabs Henry by the hair and yanks the vampire’s head back.

“Wait, stop,” he hisses and Henry stills and cocks his head as the words register. He scrambles off Mike and starts pounding on the door.

“Stop it Coreen!” he calls out. “You really don’t want to finish that…” But it’s too late, he can already feel it coming over him and from the smell of arousal coming up off of Mike it’s affecting the mortal quicker than it’s affecting him.

“What the hell?” Mike demands, panting. Henry looks at him which is probably a mistake because looking isn’t enough and he finds himself on his knees, straddling the detective’s lap because he just has to touch. Mike lets out a soft whimper at the contact as Henry’s hands bury themselves into Mike’s short hair, much more gently than their earlier scuffle.

“Spell,” Henry murmurs and he’s leaning in drunk on the pheromones rising from Mike’s body, burying his nose in the crook of Mike’s neck.

“Spell for what?” Mike asks, hands moving restlessly over Henry’s back, anxiously tugging at clothing until the shirt that Henry is wearing finally draws up enough that Mike’s hands are on the pale creamy skin that is Henry’s back.

“To get us over our animosity, I know this one,” he says laying soft kisses along Mike’s neck and Mike tilts his head back invitingly. Henry rocks their hips together and murmurs approvingly as he kisses up to Mike’s ear, tongue flitting around the lobe. “She’s just saying it,” he kisses his way along Mike’s jaw until his lips hover over Mike’s lips. “Wrong,” he breathes out and then they’re kissing and everything fades away until the strong body under his is all he can feel and driving Michael Celluci insane with pleasure is all he can think of.

Mike’s shirt parts easily as Henry rips it in half, the sleeves hang around the man’s wrists like cuffs and Henry rumbles appreciatively at the hair covering the broad chest. He bends down to kiss and lick at the pebbled nipples and Mike arches, trying to get closer. Henry arranges them so he can lay Mike on the floor and the other man hisses as his overly warm flesh connects with the cold bathroom floor. Henry kisses him in apology and leans up, pulling his shirt up and off, grinding down on Mike’s erection as he does before diving back down to trail kisses down the bare chest, reaches the waist band of tan slacks. Belt buckle and pants open easily under his practiced hands and he encourages Mike to arch up again, pulls the pants and briefs out of the way, breathing in the other man’s heady scent.

Mike tugs at his shoulder until he levels himself back up and into the blond man’s reach where he starts pulling on Henry’s pants, which is the best idea Mike has ever had, and Henry's jeans join the pile of clothing in the corner. Henry pulls Mike’s arms up above his head and uses the shirt ends to tie him to the toilet base. Mike gasps softly at the cold porcelain until it warms up to his body temperature.

“You’re beautiful,” Henry murmurs softly into his ear and grabs for the vaseline hand lotion that Vicki’s been keeping in the bathroom since she started working with all of Coreen’s musty books that ‘suck the moisture right out of her’. Mike makes a strangled gasp when the first finger slips in but he bears down on it easily and Henry moans appreciatively at the hottightwet he finds and rushes the second finger in. He gets four fingers in, not because Mike seems to need the extra stretching but because, god, the sounds. When he finally slides his cock in, Mike is leaking precome in a cooling stream against his stomach and Henry shudders and pauses for control when Mike clamps down around him convulsively. He rocks and feels his cock brush the small bundle of nerves inside of Mike.

“Oh God,” Mike moans drunkenly and spreads his legs a little wider, taking Henry impossibly deeper and Henry feels himself change, beyond his control as his eyes bleed to black. Mike opens his eyes, blissed out and when he sees Henry’s eyes he shudders in want, rocks his hips up and tilts his head back, offering all of himself to Henry.

“Yes,” Henry hisses darkly as he leans down, hips thrusting in and out slowly, dragging his cock against that bundle of nerves, listening to the tiny groans and sighs that come out of a completely submissive Michael Celluci, each one racing directly through Henry’s body to his cock. He holds out, until they’re both so ready it’s almost painful and then sinks his teeth into Mike’s neck, sweet hot rush of copper over his tongue as Mike cries out his name and comes, muscles clenching and unclenching around Henry’s cock and Henry comes harder than he can ever remember.

He comes back to himself slowly, still buried in Mike’s body, the twin puncture marks against Mike’s neck are healing slowly under the soft licks of Henry’s tongue and with almost complete control over himself again, Henry leans forward and bites again, claiming now, this mark will always be there, Mike is his. Mike murmurs sleepily when he finally pulls away again, admiring the glistening mark on the otherwise smooth neck and Henry shushes, presses a light kiss to his lips and then joins him in rest.

***

Outside the bathroom Coreen and Vicki stare wide-eyed and in shock at the bathroom door as the noise finally dies down and Vicki turns incredulous eyes on her gothic assistant who pales at the look and grabs for the phone.

“I’ll just be calling Angie now,” she squeaks and starts dialing. Vicki rubs her forehead with her hand and sighs.

“This is too much, I need coffee,” she mutters and stomps away.

***

Henry watches Mike come back to himself slowly, as he sits fully dressed on the sink counter and stares at the other man with a sense of foreboding. Mike stares at him incredulously.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he demands, pulling his clothes on, a dark blush rising in his cheeks as he stares at the ruins of his dress shirt.

"It wasn't me this time," Henry shrugs and watches Mike in interest. "Coreen was doing a spell, that's what we heard before we…" He stops at Mike's wild-eyed gaze and just gestures to the floor where the deed was done.

"A spell, she did a friggin' spell and we…why?" Mike demands almost plaintively and Henry has to fight the smile that wants to surface. The bond between them is barely an hour old and he can feel it strongly. Can feel the confusion and the desire that causes the confusion rushing through Mike's body, see how tense the other man has become in an attempt to not reach out and touch.

"From what I heard before we…succumbed," Henry says delicately. "It's a spell that will force us to work out our animosity."

"Work out our animosity," Mike says deadpan.

"Well yes, but it turns out we don’t have animosity towards each other, just a lot of repressed unresolved sexual tension." Henry shrugs, it's almost too funny to wind Mike up, the colour rising in his face, the angry eyes flashing.

"There was no sexual tension," Mike hisses viciously. "You're an asshole and I hate you."

"Hmm, makes the spell a bit difficult for you to deal with then." Henry hops off the counter and purposely brushes against Mike's arm, feels the shudder of longing it sends through them both. He takes in the bathroom door and without a second thought brings his foot up into it, sending it flying outwards off its hinges into the lobby where pieces of it rattle against Coreen's desk. Coreen and Vicki come rushing out of Vicki's office wide-eyed.

"The rest of what?" There's worry in his voice and Henry turns to glare at Coreen.

"Well you know, there's a little matter of the 'reward' she added, because as I'm sure everyone is aware, rewards and magic go really, really well together." Henry watches the blood rush out of Coreen's face with satisfaction.

"Henry stop it," Vicki says and puts a hand on her assistant's shoulder. Coreen looks like she's about to burst into tears at any moment. Henry directs his gaze to Vicki.

"Right, because it's not her fault, she was just trying to help," he shakes his head and walks over to the door to the hallway, pulling it open. "Just like when you stabbed me with my own sword, stole my blood, and performed dark magic in my home."

"That was for you and it ended just fine!" Vicki snaps. "This was an accident!"

"Magic is not a toy," Henry says in a serious, quiet voice. "Magic is not a toy to be taken out of the box and played with so you can get your way. You both did it anyway, twice even, and now Michael and I have to deal with the consequences of it because neither of you stopped to think about what might happen in there or what either of us really wants as our reward." He spins on his heels and steps out into the hallway leaving the three mortals to stare at each other awkwardly, Mike twisting his tattered shirt around in his hands.

"I just can't believe you'd even do that to me," he says finally staring at Vicki. She opens her mouth, to apologize, to make excuses but doesn't get a word out as Henry's voice floats into the room with a dark tone.

"Michael, come." It's an order and Vicki and Coreen wait for Mike to respond with a snappy comment. Instead something passes over Mike's face, like he's trying to fight but can't and with a shake of his head he gives in, scoops up his trench coat and follows Henry out of the office.

"I think we might have made a big mistake," Coreen says quietly, kicking at a piece of the bathroom door. "I just wanted them to get something out of it," Vicki sighs.

***

Mike holds his tongue on the way to Henry's car, stays silent when Henry turns the opposite direction from Mike's house and stays equally silent as Henry leads him to the elevators of his apartment building. The doorman doesn’t even look up at the sight of a man walking bare-chested in the building lobby, mutters a greeting and stays absorbed in his comic book.

"What are we doing?" he finally asks as Henry locks his door behind them. 

"Right now? We're going to sleep, Michael." Because it's almost dawn and he would rather be in his own bed when he dies for the day than anywhere else.

"But what am I doing here?" Mike asks, breath gusting out on a heavy sigh. Henry leads the way to his bedroom and points to the edge of the bed.

"Sit," he says, there's not even a hint of command in his voice, but Mike sits anyway. Henry attaches one of Mike's wrists to the padded manacle hanging from one bed post. "You're here," he says finally, "because we don't know what the consequences of the spell are going to be…aside from the bond obviously."

"And that's another thing," Mike says, irritation colouring his words, and looks at Henry with a mild glare. "What the hell do you mean by bond? And what does…" Henry ignores the ranting in favour of pulling off the other man's pants and briefs for the second time today and then undressing himself. Mike allows himself to be maneuvered around so he's naked, on his side with his arm wrapped around Henry's waist. Henry covers them both up with a blanket and dies for the day with the feeling of a warm arm, warm body against his, the chain attached to the wrist manacle warming up to their body temperatures as it rests along their sides.

***

He's bored, out of his mind bored. He had slept for a few hours but years of working stakeouts and the last few months of keeping night hours to help Vicki have left Mike with the need for a maximum of 5 hours of sleep. The blinds are pulled tightly to ward off the sun's deadly rays and Henry is literally a dead weight beside him. He lasts all of twenty minutes before he gets out of the bed. The manacle doesn't allow for much movement away from the bed frame, three feet in total, so he uses the bedside lamp to pull his pants closer to him where he pulls out his wallet and uses the metal piece he keeps pinned to the side to pick the lock on the softly lined cuff.

He uses the shower first, uses Henry's straight razor to shave the 5 o'clock shadow off his face. There's an art to the straight razor, he remembers his grandfather saying. He had sat on the toilet watching as his grandfather shaved every morning whenever they visited his grandparents’ house and when he was finally old enough to shave his grandfather had given him his first blade.

He wanders around after his shower with the towel wrapped around his waist, explores the room, touches the sword on the wall, the one that Vicki apparently drove into Henry's gut so that she could steal his blood.

He doesn't touch the drawings littering the light board but does lean in and look at them, is taken by a complex drawing of a tower at the edge of a wood and a creature clawing at the base of it. Finally his stomach rumbles and he realizes that wandering around the apartment of a vampire with a towel around his waist has left him cold. He finds the phone and calls a familiar number, orders ginger beef. Gets put through to the driver and tells him that there'll be a big tip in it if he picks up a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt and he gives his sizes and Henry's address before hanging up on the promise of '25 minutes'. He tips the kid, who doesn't even raise an eyebrow at a man answering the door in a towel, a fifty for his troubles. 

The blue jeans are a little too tight around the waist making him promise to exercise more, and the black t-shirt stretches across his chest. But the sweat pants and sweater are grey and they fit.

The apartment is lushly decorated and he realizes for the first time, sitting in the sweat suit cross-legged on the Persian rug, eating his ginger beef straight out of the carton, staring at the large bookshelf, that this is the first time he's really been in Henry's apartment. He cleans up after himself looks at the clock and tries to pretend he's not relieved that the sun will be setting soon. Justifies not leaving the apartment yet with the reality that every time he thinks about it he feels so heavy he doesn't think he can move. 

He investigates the kitchen and finds it surprisingly well stocked. Which derails his thoughts for a moment as he wonders out loud if he's ever seen Henry eating anything other than people before and realizes that there has been the occasional cup of coffee, and a few times when he would steal a bite of whatever Vicki was eating. He wondered for a moment how that would work and then shakes his head. He isn't a scientist, he's a detective and there are some things he just doesn't care to know.

He turns a thoughtful eye on the pasta in the cupboard he's opened which is why, when Henry wakes up an hour later, he smells tomato sauce.

***

The first thing Henry does when he wakes up is shower last night off of himself, before dressing in jeans and a light shirt. The apartment feels warmer than it usually does and the smells coming from his kitchen are distracting. He can smell ginger beef when he walks into the living room but the smell of garlic and tomato is more powerful. He finds Mike standing at the counter in an unfamiliar sweat suit, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stirring a bubbling pot. He moves quietly but Mike still turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I have questions," the detective tells him and Henry shrugs.

"I may have answers, I can't guarantee it though." Mike looks back at the stove and pulls a pot off the burner, putting it on an unheated element.

"Why can't I leave?" Henry watches Mike's hands as he lifts the pasta pot and pours the contents into a strainer in the sink and then pours the contents of the strainer into the still bubbling tomato sauce in the other pot.

"You can leave," he says with a shrug and Mike's shoulders lift as though a weight has been lifted off of them. He doesn't leave though. He dishes out a serving onto a plate, digs a fork out of a drawer and walks out into the living room, leaving Henry staring at his back with a frown at just how comfortable the detective has made himself in this apartment.

Mike folds himself down to the floor in front of the coffee table and eats the pasta. Henry follows and sits at the end of the couch closest to the mortal.

"Well I couldn’t earlier, why is that?"

Mike doesn't get an answer to his question though, because the vampire doesn't even let Mike finish his meal before knocking the man to the floor, licking the sauce on the corner of Mike's lips and delving into Mike's mouth, devouring him.

He pushes the sweater up and off the blond, nipping gently at the bared chest as he goes and delights in Mike’s gasps when he tongues the tight copper nipples. He presses himself full length against Mike and pushes the sweatpants down until he can grasp the man's hard cock in his cool hand. Mike arches back, head thumping on the thick carpet, and moans gutturally.

"That's it," Henry encourages, moving onto his side and changing his grip on Mike, moving more smoothly. He buries his face into Mike's neck, licking at the pulse pounding there, calling to him, sinks his teeth into the flesh there and is rewarded with a spurt of fresh blood.

Mike cries out his name in a shaking voice, come spilling up over Henry's hand and onto Mike's stomach. Henry coaxes him through the aftershocks as he pulls away from Mike's neck, licking at the wounds gently, prolonging the pleasure as long as he can until Mike pushes his hand away.

Henry lays there with his head on Mike's shoulder listening to the human's heart thundering away until Mike shoves himself up and heads for the bathroom. He comes back with a clean, wet cloth and cleans Henry's hand before tossing it back in the direction of the bathroom. It makes a wet sound as it hits the wall.

"Move over," Mike orders and sits down in front of the coffee table again and resumes eating his meal, he hasn't bothered to put the sweater back on. Henry snorts and moves into the kitchen to grab some for himself.

"Do you always chain up house guests?" Mike asks when the vampire settles himself back down on the floor beside him.

"Only the ones I want to keep, how did you get out?" Henry demands and tucks into the pasta delicately.

"Yeah, I think I'll be keeping that to myself thanks," Mike says. He stands up to head to the kitchen and Henry cocks his head thoughtfully. 

"Michael?" he says and Mike turns to look at him, an amused look on his face.

"Yes your Highness?" Henry grins at the moniker but doesn't let it distract him.

"I think I might have figured out what the consequences of the spell are," he informs his newly bonded. He'd try to play this off seriously but hey, it's not happening to him so it's pretty damn funny. Mike rolls his eyes when Henry doesn't continue.

"Yes, and, what would those consequences be?" the detective demands. Henry smirks and gestures to his stomach and Mike looks down at himself and swears.

"You mind watching your mouth, Detective?" Henry asks innocently. "That's my child in there," he gestures again to the baby bump that is Michael's stomach, the man looks about five months along.

"I'll call Vicki," Mike mutters and stomps into the kitchen. Henry doesn't laugh but the smile won't leave his face. He's always wanted children.

/end


End file.
